Not Just Business
706 Words
I tried to avoid Ethan for the next two days.
Not in an obvious way. I still replied to his texts. Still showed up when he needed me for “appearances.” But I kept things short. Polite. Professional.
Like this was actually just business.
Which was funny, because my heart clearly didn’t get the memo.
On the third day, he asked me to come to his office again. I almost said no, but then I remembered… I was literally under contract. So I went.
When I walked in, he wasn’t behind his desk this time. He was standing near the window, on a call.
“Yes, I said cancel it,” he said, his voice sharp. “I don’t care how important she is.”
He hung up and turned to me. “You’re early.”
“Traffic was kind for once,” I replied, standing awkwardly near the door.
There was a strange silence between us. Not uncomfortable. Just… loaded.
“You’ve been distant,” he said.
I blinked. “Have I?”
“Yes.”
I shrugged. “Maybe I’m just getting used to the rules.”
His jaw tightened slightly. “This isn’t about the rules.”
I didn’t answer.
He walked closer. Not too close. But close enough that I could smell his cologne again. That same clean, expensive scent that had no business being this distracting.
“Did Vanessa bother you?” he asked quietly.
I laughed. Fake laugh. Defensive laugh. “Why would she?”
“You don’t usually lie this badly.”
I looked at him then. Really looked at him. And for a second, I forgot we were pretending. Forgot about contracts and money and all the reasons this shouldn’t feel personal.
“I’m not jealous,” I said. “It’s just… weird, okay? Watching someone touch you like that in front of me.”
He was quiet for a moment.
Then he said, “I told her to stay away.”
My heart skipped. “You did what?”
“She crossed a line,” he said simply. “You’re my girlfriend. Even if it’s fake, the public doesn’t know that.”
I swallowed. “So you’re protecting your image.”
His eyes held mine. “I’m protecting you.”
That did it.
That one sentence completely ruined my emotional stability.
I looked away quickly. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.”
There it was again. That feeling. The one I kept pretending didn’t exist.
Before I could respond, his assistant knocked and entered. “Mr. Blackwood, the press event is ready.”
He sighed. “Already?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Press event?”
“Yes,” he said, turning back to me. “Another couple appearance.”
“Of course,” I muttered.
The event was smaller than the brunch, but still public. Cameras, reporters, questions. The usual.
At one point, a reporter asked, “So Ava, what do you love most about Ethan?”
I froze.
That wasn’t in the script.
I glanced at him. He looked just as caught off guard as I felt.
“Uh…” I started, my mind racing. “He’s… very supportive. And… honest.”
Ethan looked at me.
Really looked at me.
“And what about you, Ethan?” the reporter asked. “What do you love about Ava?”
He didn’t hesitate.
“She’s real,” he said. “In a world full of people pretending to be perfect, she’s just… herself.”
My chest tightened.
That wasn’t business.
That wasn’t rehearsed.
That was real.
After the event, we sat in the car in silence again. But this time, it wasn’t awkward.
It was soft.
“You didn’t have to say that,” I said quietly.
“Yes, I did.”
I turned to him. “Why?”
He met my eyes. “Because it’s true.”
The car felt suddenly too small.
Too quiet.
Too intimate.
This was getting dangerous.
Not because he was a billionaire.
Not because of the contract.
But because somewhere along the way, pretending had started to feel real.
And I didn’t know how to stop it.
- Writer
